Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Mr. Darth Vader is being treated in my office for a variety of serious injuries. All of his limbs have been severed; he has no hands or feet and must rely on attached cybernetics to perform simple mobility functions. In addition, all of his skin has suffered serious burns, which leaves him in a state of constant agony. His lungs have also been scorched and he requires a breathing apparatus to inhale and exhale. Without vocal aids, he can only speak with great difficulty. Many of his damaged internal organs have been removed and replaced by regulated computer systems. Additionally, his spine is incomplete and is supported by a series of artificial structural inserts, including several around his upper vertebrae to support the weight of head. He cannot rotate his head more than forty-five degrees in any direction. His bodily waste systems are no longer under his direct control and he must always be equipped with a liquid-recycling catheter and a regularly-emptied collection bag.

Mr. Darth Vader's senses have also been irreparably damaged and, in some cases, entirely lost. Due to his burn injuries, his eyes are severely damaged and need to covered at all times. He cannot see properly without the use of optical sensors. His eardrums are completely gone and he relies on the use of soundwave receptor implants. He cannot sense light touches on his bare skin due to his damaged nerve endings, but relies on a computerized system to warn him of physical damage to his person. With great effort, he can chew food and, to some small degree, even taste it. However, he most often relies on nutrients that are sent directly into his system intravenously. On a lighter note, his olfactory senses remain mostly unimpeded.

My professional opinion is that Mr. Darth Vader is not fit to perform any of the work duties that he has been assigned. He requires constant supervision, daily medical attention, and regular maintenance and cleaning for his cybernetics. Despite all of his technology, he simply cannot function as a normal human being. He is like some sort of walking metaphor for lost humanity. Mr. Darth Vader must be relieved of duty as soon as possible to ensure that he receives proper care.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Of all bearded presidents, perhaps none are more legendary than Abraham Lincoln. Unlike most presidential facial hair, Lincoln's beard (known as Abeard Mire) crept onto his face only a short time before Abraham became the Commander in Chief, during his time as President-Elect. Although Lincoln was aware of Abeard's existence since his childhood, the two remained at an awkward distance because of an unfortunate mutual association. For you see, Abeard's evil twin, Mulder "The Unpasteurized" Mire murdered Abraham's mother when the would-be president was only a boy. Yes, Abeard was actually dairy mold and thus not actually a true hair-beard. However, America is built upon stories of individuals who defy the impossible to become successful and the path of Abeard's rise to prominence was one such tale.

Abeard Mire was born in a humble milk container in late September of 1818. His conjoined twin brother, Mulder, was always pushing Abeard to join in pranks and general mischief, the kind of hijinks that earned Mulder the callow nickname "The Unpasteurized" in the milk bottle's mold community. However, Abeard was a gentle soul and soon ignored his attached brother altogether. Enraged at this treatment, Mulder detached from his twin and ventured to the perilous Bottle Mouth Sinkhole, a place few traveled because of the local legends surrounding the area. The furious mold vowed to "strike down any who shall impede my journey to become the most fearless and feared mold of all" and subsequently tumbled into a glass that was held firmly in the grip of Nancy Hanks Lincoln, mother of the future sixteenth president.

In the following days, Mulder furiously attempted to escape Nancy's digestive tract, fatally harming her in the process. The wayward mold eventually rode his way out on a vomit wave, only to be shocked to discover that he had been trapped inside of a large organism. "If I can destroy this massive creature, surely I will be able to vanquish all of them! This shall be my new purpose in life!" exclaimed Mulder's mind, which was transmitted through the psychic link that the Unpasteurized shared with his twin. Abeard, who had been safely residing in the bottom of the unfinished milk bottle, knew then and there that his disturbed brother must be stopped.

Abeard steeled himself and made the long trek to the world beyond the bottle. For what seemed like an eternity, the young traveler wandered the unknown expanse in search of someone, something to warn about the impending moldoom. Tired and out of his depth, Abeard was on the verge of giving up all hope when he was discovered by the curious sight of none other than young Abraham Lincoln. The ensuing coversation was as follows:

"What manner of creature have I stumbled upon in my grief-stricken ambling?"

"I am a mold, called Abeard Mire. I have traveled beyond the Bottle Mouth Sinkhole in order carry a warning. The large organisms of your land are imperiled by the murderous intent of my twin brother, Mulder Mire, known as The Unpasteurized. Are you able to assist me in my journey, giant?"

"I am sorry, Abeard, but I cannot, for I am in mourning over the passing of my mother."

"Your mother! That must be the first victim of my brother's atrociousness!"

"Abeard, your words have turned my sorrow to rage. I am called Abraham Lincoln, and I wish for you to help me find this nefarious Mulder Mire! I have an axe to grind."

And so it was that Abeard and Abraham began a partnership that lasted for over a decade. Abeard, attached safely to Abraham's back, guided the skilled axeman with his situationally appropriate psychic twin link, bringing untold amounts of destruction to the mold colonies that harbored The Unpasteurized. However, the psychic twin link was not exclusive to Abeard, as he soon realized that his brother had always fled right before Abraham's axe rained sharp retribution down upon Mulder's safe harbor.

"Abraham, my brother has been using our psychic link against me all this time! I deeply regret that I can no longer join you, but simply point you in the right direction."

"I understand, my steadfast friend. You have aided me in finding my mother's murderer and I am forever in your debt. Once my deed is finished, I urge to one day seek me out and I will try to return the favor."

With this, the two parted ways. Left alone with his thoughts for the first time since before Mulder first psychically transmitted his deleterious quest, Abeard carelessly fell into a deep depression. Then he crawled out of that literal depression and entered a mental depression. He thought of Mulder's victims throughout the years, all of which were misdiagnosed with milk sickness. How could his own twin brother become such a monster, destroying all of those lives? Abeard knew his brother must be punished for his crimes, but he yearned for closure. He entered into a life of solitude, burrowing underground and meditating on his thoughts until he could not avoid facing the issue any longer.

When Abeard reunited with Abraham Lincoln, his old friend had recently won the presidential election of 1860. The old mold asked Abraham to recount the fate of the misguided Mulder.

"I followed your guidance, Abeard, and soon found your malicious brother. After a brief yet taxing battle, Mulder was at the mercy of my righteous axe. The Unpasteurized exclaimed that he was the feared mold in the known world! Then, unexpectedly, with the mold equivalent of tears in the mold equivalent of his eyes, he confessed that his only regret was that he would never see his twin brother, Abeard, ever again. However, he then took comfort in the knowledge that surely all humans feared his moldy wrath. I told him that I was the only human who knew of his serial molding spree and that all of his murders were deemed the result of milk sickness. To this revelatory statement of truth, he replied 'That's not true! That's impossible!' I then proceeded to chop him up into tiny bits and set those bits aflame."

Abeard silently nodded his head in acknowledgment of his brother's fate. Tired and world-weary, he requested to collect upon the favor that Abraham had promised him so long ago. All that he wanted was a place to safely rest and quietly live out his last years. Abraham, with a stroke of genius and a wink in his eye, replied with, "I think a chin cover beard would look quite presidential." Thus, Abeard lived peacefully on Abraham Lincoln's face for the remainder of his life, occasionally providing soothing words of comfort during the troubled times of the sixteenth American president. Abeard Mire passed away quietly and unnoticed shortly before President Lincoln reached Ford's Theatre on April 14, 1865.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

There are few things that lift my spirits on glum days more than the sight of excellent presidential facial hair. Sadly, Washington political culture has long since abandoned the acceptance of grizzly executive maws. I consider such relinquishment to be an incredible loss for the Spirit of America, which likely cries out in sorrowful howls for the days when our handsomest male politicians could openly sport a goat without instantly being labeled a Marxist. The course of presidential facial hair is an interesting one, and it all started with the fuzzy, delicious muttonchops of Martin Van Buren. (If you thought, "What about J.Q. Adams' sideburns?" then you should slap yourself. Every professional historian knows that those were both pitiful and fake.)

Star-Spangled Sideburns

This former Secretary of State, Vice-President to Andrew Jackson, and 8th American President was an impressive political figure in his time, but let's skip all that and focus on what his Wampa Paws achieved for the United States and its people. Because he was a widower during his tenure as VP, Martin's facial hair was dubbed "Hannah's Eaton-Your-Head" after his late wife Hannah and the era's most controversial social figure, Peggy Eaton. Upon assuming the face of the presidency in 1837, the "Little Magician's" "Big Enchantments" solved the Panic of 1837 of their own free will through sheer intimidation. The so-called "most terrifying crisis of the time" shrunk back into the speculative minds that created it, cowering at the frightening sight of two disembodied velutinous monstrosities charging into the Second Bank of the United States with horrifying glares in its nonexistent eyes. This legendary act of bravery and surprising sentience cemented the Executive Fluff as a popular folk hero.

Advising President Van Buren, Martin's Muttons crafted a series of lower tariffs and even convinced the commander-in-chief to engage in diplomacy with Mexico instead of armed conflict. Although the Sensational Sideburns protested, Van Buren continued Andrew Jackson's genocidal Indian Policy and the president presided over the continuation of the Trail of Tears as well as the carrying-on of the Second Seminole War. Disapproving but undyingly loyal, Hannah's Eaton-Your-Head stayed with Martin until the end of his term in 1841, after which the two parted ways. Van Buren replaced his facial hair with bushels of tangible sadness during his 1848 third-party presidential bid, although these frizzy impressions proved to be less politically adept than his former cranium companion. While the 8th president was blamed in his time for the nation's economic problems, his facial hair remained popular with the voting public despite its retirement from political life. Because hair is immortal, these particular facial adornments now live in Hollywood where it is the most famous hair-acter actor of the silver screen, most notably for its work as Wolverine's feral fuzz in the X-Men films. Truly, this 'Chops-in-Chief was a trailblazer for all future presidential facial hair.

"I stood as a bright light for the nation in dark times and now I sleep on piles of Andrew Jackson's face." - Hannah's Eaton-Your-Head, 2009.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

As the summer draws ever closer to an end and the onset of the upcoming semester draws near, I sit stunned that I completely forgot the fact that I have a blog floating out in unmonitored internet space. I honestly have no idea why it exists. I do not have much to say as it is, so do I really need a private forum in which to shout nothing to the infinitely non-existent crowds? The answer is a resounding no. But I think I will continue to periodically update it regardless. Why? There is no answer.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

It seems that I have once again allowed an incredible expanse of time to pass between blog posts. This is allowable due to the fact that I have once again had a semester full of book reviews, research papers, and also comprehensive exams, which I have passed with flying colors. Now the semester is drawing to a close with only Spring Break and two weeks of class left. But fear not, followers of this blog that do not exist and/or random internet passerby who for some reason stumbled upon the ramblings of a deranged human male, for I shall try to keep this regularly updated during the summer as I will have little to do except for my part-time job and building an applewood-scented shrinking ray that only affects objects made of solid copper.

What I feel like at the end of every semester, sans awesome beard.

What treasures will I bring forth from this eternal twizzling puzzlebox that I casually refer to as my mind? Who knows?! Only the shadow knows...and me, Jesse Doctor. Until then, I have twenty-five pages left to write until I am finally done, so I shall be an absentee bloglord for at least several more weeks.

As a side note, I mentioned in my last post that I was hoping to publish that lengthy primary source research paper as an article. That did not happen because the professor said that while my paper was informative, it was a bit boring and "merely good." So that happened.

Monday, November 15, 2010

There are few things that I enjoy more than writing two lengthy research papers at the same time. When I use the word "enjoy," what I really mean is "despise." My first research paper that will clock in around thirty pages is largely based on my own primary source research on several treaties made with the Plains Indians. I am very excited about it and hope to send it off for possible publication when the semester is finished. I would elaborate, but I am fairly certain that doing so violates certain academic standards. Therefore, I can say even less about my second research paper, which will be around twenty pages. I am not excited about it at all but I foolishly took the seminar on Medieval Europe, which I have no interest in whatsoever. I hastily chose Pope Innocent III as this paper's subject and it will likely not break any new scholarly ground. I desperately wish that this second paper could be on papal headgear because they really know how to rock out with their Holy See out, for real.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Here is another pointless image that was birthed unto the non-expectant, uninterested parent known as reality.

The Green Lantern Corps wield the green light of Will, and if there's one president who seemingly had more willpower than any other, it would most assuredly be Theodore Roosevelt. If there was something that man wanted to do, he immediately set out to accomplish it, and if he was unable to, he would just keep trying. Just think of the things that he could have accomplished if he had a green superweapon fueled by his own indomitable will.